


Freckles

by foryouandbits



Series: Tumblr Ficlets [6]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Ficlet, M/M, Not Canon Compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-08
Updated: 2016-10-08
Packaged: 2018-08-20 06:54:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8240020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foryouandbits/pseuds/foryouandbits
Summary: Just after Spring Break of Jack's senior year, Jack and Bitty find themselves alone in the Haus.





	

During Spring Break Jack’s senior year, Jack spent the majority of the week flying across the country for pointless meetups for potential NHL contracts. Contract negotiation had been occurring through the whole year, but after one outdoor run with Georgia Martin in fall semester, he had decided on Providence. Ransom put together an elaborate spreadsheet to rank all the different factors that weighed his decision – ice time, location, cap space, and way more – but regardless of what the complicated formulas said, Jack knew where he would land come graduation. Despite being an expansion team, the contract was more money than Jack could ever possibly spend, he would be added to the starting line right away, and only one other team was physically closer to Samwell, but his growth potential with the Bruins had serious flaws.

Jack didn’t know why proximity to Samwell was so important to him; his parents lived in Montreal and within two or three years everyone he knew would have graduated and moved on anyway, so there was no need for longevity in New England. Despite that, he recognized his hesitancy over the last few days – the further away, the more flaws he found in the courting team. Anaheim practically begged him to join their organization and they were leading their division. Arizona held the C over his head. When he declined to meet with Dallas, they doubled their proposed contract value. He knew if he went with a team in the Western Conference he’d be a superstar before thirty, but there was always something in the way. When he walked out of the meeting in Arizona and said to his manager, “They’re just so far away,” his manager knocked the cap off his head and Jack didn’t say another word until they got on the plane.

It was an exhausting break and Jack had midterms right away this week, so when he arrived back to the Haus to find it empty, he collapsed onto his bed and closed his eyes immediately. He drifted a bit; he was more mentally exhausted than physically, having not had to practice or play a game in over a week. Face-down on his bed, though, he felt much more relaxed than he had since break began.

Jack was not sure how long he lay there, maybe just a few seconds or maybe several minutes, before the thwump of the front door and light steps up the stairs disturbed the rare silence of the Haus. Process of elimination ruled out Ransom and Holster fast – they had never run up the stairs that quietly in their lives, and they were on the same flight back from their Spring Break EpiVacation 2k15 in Miami (“Home of Babes, Bits. Babes in rare form. You know they’d be all over our washboard abs and Holster’s ridic chiclet teeth.” To which Bitty replied, “Gay, Rans. I’m gay.” “Nah, B,” said Holster, “I’m sure there are some loose dudes down there too. If not, you more than likely will end up drunkenly making out with one of us in a hot tub at three o’clock in the morning, so it’s win-win.” “Yeah, I’m not going.”). Shitty would have announced his presence immediately. None of the non-Haus residents would have come this quickly up the stairs.

Jack got out of his bed and opened his door to see Bitty drop his duffel bag onto the floor of his room and begin to unzip his jacket. He’d gotten a haircut over break, his undercut golden but short on the sides, that one cowlick on the crown of his head in that rare stage where he could actually control it. Jack stepped forward and leaned against Bitty’s doorframe just as Bitty turned around.

Bitty jumped.

“Jack! I thought you wouldn’t be back ‘til tomorrow?” Bitty asked, color flushing to his already red face. Georgia sun had taken its toll on Bitty, the arch of his cheekbones and the bridge of his nose showing the final stages of a sunburn, small white flakes of skin peeling a bit at the edges. The expanse of Bitty’s nose were dotted with brown freckles, same with his chin, cheeks, and forehead. Jack’s eyes roamed over each one until he realized he hadn’t responded.

“Nope, today,” he said, and felt the right corner of his mouth tilt up into a smirk.

“But no one else is back today, right?”

“Ransom and Holster should be back from Florida tomorrow night,” said Jack and felt his smile grow when Bitty rolled his eyes, “and I don’t know about Shitty. He was just going back to Cambridge with Lardo so I doubt he’ll be there any second longer than necessary.”

“Okay, that gives me time to make welcome back pie. I’m just going to change into something warmer and go grocery shopping. It’s hot as all get out in Georgia right now and I brought a jacket knowing I’d be cold coming home, but I did not expect this. It is freezing!”

“Bittle, it’s fifty degrees out right now and sunny.”

“Yeah, freezing!” repeated Bitty, who pulled off his jacket to reveal his blue tank top. He turned to throw his jacket onto his bed and Jack’s breath hitched in his throat.

The freckles were everywhere. The tiny brown flecks dotted the tops of his shoulders the most but expanded down his biceps (surprisingly toned for someone with such a small build), ending halfway to his elbow. Jack wanted to count them and found his fingers reaching out to touch Bitty’s skin until he realized exactly what he was doing, and quickly retreated his hand to his side.

“Do you want to go to the store with me?” Bitty asked, still not facing Jack. He opened a drawer in his dresser and pulled out a long sleeved Samwell Men’s Hockey shirt, which he draped over the side of the open drawer before he reached behind his head, grabbed the collar of his tank top, and pulled it off.

Jack’s body was humming. He could feel every inch of his own skin underneath his clothes, vibrating, crawling over itself as Jack’s eyes scanned the expanse of Bitty’s back. In the nearly two years that Jack had known Bitty, he had never really seen Bitty tan, but the lack of any sort of line on the bare skin of his back led Jack to the conclusion that he spent most of his break shirtless and outside. The freckles, so condensed on the tops of Bitty’s shoulders, spread out over the expanse of his back, over his shoulder blades and into the center crease along his spine.

“Jack?”

Bitty looked over his shoulder at Jack, who quickly tore his gaze from Bitty’s back to his large brown eyes. Bitty looked concerned. “You okay, Jack?”

“Sorry,” Jack replied and Bitty smiled right away at Jack’s accent, but didn’t proceed to a chirp, “I think I’m just beat. Lots of meetings.”

“Oh, why don’t you lay down then? I can go by myself. I’ll make you something special for dinner,” Bitty said and turned around, and _Crisse_ they were on his chest too, dipping into the hollows behind his collar bones. Bitty reached over for his shirt and that was not acceptable – Jack took two steps forward and pulled Bitty toward him, Jack’s left hand on the small of Bitty’s back, Jack’s right hand cupping Bitty’s face, where he could not help but run his thumb over the brown freckles within his reach.

Bitty did not exclaim or resist, melting into Jack’s embrace as if he’d been waiting for this his entire life, lifting his chin without guidance. Bitty’s eyes were so dark his pupils were usually impossible to see but from this distance Jack could make them out, dilated as wide as they could go, Bitty’s eyelids soft and low.

“Bits,” Jack whispered, “Bits, can I kiss you?”

“Yes, please,” breathed Bitty, so Jack obliged, his lips descending upon Bitty’s in a fluid motion. Bitty sighed as their lips connected and responded softly, kissing Jack back slowly, their lips gliding together with just the right amount of moisture, just the hint of tongue, just the languid breathing of something that was always meant to occur.

Jack let go first, his desire to see Bitty’s face the only adequate reason for ever removing himself from Bitty’s lips. Bitty’s eyes remained closed as Jack stood upright again and slowly, after many breaths, fluttered back open. Jack let go of Bitty’s face and began to trail his fingertips over the freckles on Bitty’s nose and chin.

“Is this okay?” Jack murmured. He watched as Bitty’s tongue slid over the bottom of his lip, and Bitty slowly nodded, Bitty’s expression the definition of bliss, the heat from his sunburn and his emotion transferring as Jack continued to touch his skin. “I want to count your freckles.”

Bitty smiled. “That might take a while.”

“We have time,” Jack replied. “Can I?”

“Yes,” replied Bitty. “If you let me make you dinner.”

“Of course.”

Bitty placed both of his hands on Jack’s chest and pushed him toward the bed, where Jack sat down, Bitty sat in his lap, and Jack began to tick off the freckles, starting with the twenty-seven on Bitty’s left collarbone. He lost count at one hundred and two when Bitty placed his hands in Jack’s hair. Jack placed a kiss on the top of Bitty’s shoulder and then wrapped both arms around Bitty’s waist and settled into Bitty’s neck, where Jack could feel the race of Bitty’s heartbeat.

“I’m going to sign with Providence,” Jack whispered.

“Yeah?” Bitty replied, his fingers still running through Jack’s hair. Jack closed his eyes.

“Yeah. I – I never want to be far from you.”

Bitty leaned back and Jack looked up into Bitty’s eyes, and Bitty smiled at him. “Don’t worry, honey,” said Bitty, “you never have to be.”


End file.
